


The Desk

by sorrywhatever



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Really all there is here is smut, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3520010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrywhatever/pseuds/sorrywhatever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity is working late and Oliver seeks her out in her office down in IT. Things escalate quickly, and Felicity's never really been into sex like this, but that's because she's never had sex like this with Oliver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Desk

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm super new to writing, though I've been a very avid reader of fanfic for years. This is just a short little smutty piece I had to get out of my head and onto paper (well, you know what I mean). Please let me know what you think. Totally un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine. Oh, and did I mention the smut. This is just a lot of smut.

Felicity had been working late at Queen Consolidated again, which wasn’t really that unusual, but now that she knew Oliver’s secret and was ALSO working extra with him, well, it made it hard to find room for anything else. 

So, yes, her and Oliver seemed to have started something, and GOD yes, she was thoroughly enjoying any extra time she could find alone with him, but after meeting briefly with him upstairs and then heading back to her IT lair to finalize some updates, she was feeling very, very glad that it was casual Friday and she could kick off her shoes and stretch out. 

All of her colleagues had already left, so she turned some music on and closed her door most of the way and just bopped around the room.

She was so caught up in the rare moment of alone time that she failed to hear Oliver as he gently knocked on her door.

“Felicity,” he called out, taking a tentative step into the room.

Looking up suddenly, with her cheeks slightly flushed from her dancing (well, if you could even call it that) Felicity let out a breathless squeak. 

“Oliver!” she yelped. “I thought you left after our meeting upstairs. Didn’t you say you were leaving? Not that, you know, you can’t be here, because the building does have your name on it after all, but I just thought you said you’d meet me later. At, you know, that other location where we sometimes meet.” She shook her head lightly to stop her rambling and quickly went to go turn down the music.

Oliver shut the door and gave her a soft smile as he stepped closer to her. Like, so close she could smell him. God, why did he always smell so good? She was seriously afraid she was becoming addicted to his smell. And his taste. And probably all of him. She could feel the heat radiating off of him and took a quick, stuttering breath in. It was really, really unfair how affected she was by him.

“I ended up getting caught up with some paperwork and was just barely able to get away. I thought I’d stop by to see if you wanted to catch a ride with me. Over to our ‘other location,’” he said smiling widely. This code they were talking in had her seriously starting to wish that “other location” stood for, like, secret sex den or lover’s nest or something other than the damp, rat infested basement where they conducted their vigilante business. 

Realizing she might have voiced some of that out loud, Felicity’s cheeks colored and she stepped back, turning to check on her monitors.

“Sure, sure. Thanks for checking. I, um, think this will be done in about 4 minutes, so if you don’t mind waiting, I’d love to take a ride. I mean catch a ride. Ride with you.” 

Blowing a quick breath out, Felicity bent down to gather her stuff from under her desk when she heard Oliver groan this deep, incredibly sexy noise that, yeah, definitely did something for her. Looking over her shoulder, Felicity quirked a brow at Oliver.

“Felicity,” he growled, eyes trailing up her skinny jeans clad legs, over her ass and finally up to her eyes, “you are seriously going to make me have to rethink the casual Friday dress code around here. I have barely been able to concentrate on anything since I saw you earlier.”

Felicity suddenly realized how tightly wound he seemed, his fist clenched and a feral look in his eyes like he was ready to pounce. Straightening, she stepped toward him, eyes darkening when she noticed the prominent bulge in his pants.

Licking her lips, Felicity stepped closer until there was less than a foot of space between them. Looking into his eyes, Felicity raised herself up on her tip toes and threaded her arms behind his head. She couldn’t take her eyes off of his eyes, so dark and almost predatory, but also dancing with a sort of mirthful happiness that she didn’t often see in him. They stood like that, breathing each other in, until suddenly he lowered his eyes to her lips and suddenly she was being consumed by him. He licked and nipped and took no time to ask gently and suddenly everywhere he touched felt like pure fire. The rough pads of his fingers were rubbing circles on her back where her peplum top had ridden up and _god, how did he have such an affect on her?_

She gave as good as she got, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling lightly, and soon she felt the edge of her desk biting into her ass where he’d pushed her against it. 

“Oliver. Oliver!” she panted out, trying to force air into her lungs while getting his attention. “We shouldn’t. Not here.” 

But he kept kissing her, rubbing his stubble along her neck as he ducked his head down to suck at that spot just above her collarbone, and yeah, oh god that was his erection rubbing against her thigh, so so close to where she wanted him now that he’d lifted her onto her desk and she’d wrapped her legs around him.

“God, uh, Oliver. We need. We need to do something,” she breathed, eyes glazed over with lust.

He smirked down at her, suit jacket rumpled and a smudge of lipstick on his collar and he looked like fucking sex personified. How was she supposed to think around him with his everything going on?

“We should definitely do something, Felicity,” he said, voice low and gravelly and, yep, it definitely did something to her insides when he spoke like that.

Then he’s kissing her again, somehow harder than before, and nipping at her earlobe and grinding, oh god, grinding against her so fucking perfectly that she wonders if she could get off just like this, trapped between his large, strong hands and his frankly amazing cock. 

“Ok, ok…. Oliver. Here? Yes, definitely here. Let’s do this here.”

He pinches roughly at her nipples and slides his hands down around her ass. His fingers work around to the front, rubbing against her clit, which actually feels pretty fantastic through the rough denim, but then he’s flicking the button and undoing the zipper and she’s lifting up her hips trying to help him get her jeans off. 

He starts working at his own pants, just starting to slide them down, when Felicity starts cursing under her breath, her ankles stuck in the tight fitting denim. 

Oliver doesn’t miss a beat, simply pulling her closer while kissing her and massaging her ass. He gives it a light smack before spinning her around and hooking his fingers into the sides of her lacy underwear before easing them down to rest alongside her jeans, stuck around her knees. 

He spreads his weight over her back, panting into her ear. She feels his hot breath and the thick, blunt head of his cock nudging against her ass and god, for a genius she really can’t think. Not at all. Not when Oliver is acting like this. 

“Fuck, Felicity, I need you,” he breathes and it’s still taking her brain a little while to catch up with what’s happening. Not that she’s always had wine and roses before sex, but doggy style wasn’t really a position she’d ever really been into. It just sounded kinda gross and seemed sort of impersonal or removed. But, honestly, right now with Oliver? It was maybe the hottest thing she’d ever experience.

So she reached behind her and felt for his hot, heavy length, slowly pumping up and down a couple of times and spreading around the slickness at his tip before positioning him behind her.

And then, _fuck fuck fuck,_ he is pushing slowly inside her and his weight is on top of her and she’s trying to find purchase on her desk while not damaging any of her expensive equipment, but all she feels is the heat that he’s generating as he fills her completely and starts rocking his hips.

He’s got one arm banded around her waist and the other is anchoring him to the edge of her desk. She feels so incredibly full of him, and this angle? It is a really really good angle. Incredible, frankly. Once he’s hit a good rhythm, sliding deep and long, she starts to work one hand down between her legs, hoping to rub her clit. But then she decides first she wants to see if she can push him even further toward the edge of his restraint. She reaches behind her and lightly scratches the inside of his thighs, stopping when she gets to his balls, which she takes in her hands and massages gently.

“Fuck,” he groans, so loudly she’s sure someone might hear. His rhythm falters slightly and she pushes back against him. He bites her shoulder and she smirks up at him before kissing him as best as she can from this angle. And fuck if knowing she’s making him lose control doesn’t make her even wetter, even as she feels him somehow grow even bigger and harder inside her. 

Felicity moves her hand to grasp his along the top of the desk and she feels him work his hand down now to frantically rub her clit. She can tell he’s close and he’s trying hard to make her come first and knowing how out of control he’s feeling is really getting her there. She is so, so close to the edge and he’s pounding into her, like really actually fucking her, and the sounds they are both making? They are pretty obscenely filthy and she feels like maybe this is the first time she’s really and truly been fucked and it is fucking fantastic. 

She hears Oliver curse under his breath, his finger on her clit growing more frantic and her vision starts to close in, black spots taking over the periphery and, shit, it has really, really never felt like this. She moans loudly as he thrusts a few more times, and the combination of his finger on her clit and his cock hitting deep and simultaneously rubbing that perfect spot inside of her is like a perfect storm of sensation. 

She’s never felt anything like it, and when Oliver slams in one last time with an animalistic growl, she feels his orgasm start -- the head of his cock bigger and harder as it hits so fucking deep. As he jerks inside her and growls out her name into her ear she lets out a silent scream as stars dance behind her eyes from the intensity of her own earth-shattering release. 

They stay there like that, wrapped around each other, breathing deeply and trying to recover as they ride out the final waves of their release. He’s still inside her and she looks over her shoulder with a happy but very tired glint in her eye. He captures her lips in another searing kiss when suddenly she starts to giggle.

“What?” he ask against her lips, and she has the decency to look embarrassed. Trying to stifle the last of her laughter she looks him up and down. “Sorry. It’s just that you look perfectly debauched. Your jacket is still on, not to mention your shirt and tie. And your pants and shoes. And I’m not sure that magenta lipstick is the right color for you, but damn, that was hot.” She smiles widely and he smiles back. 

“Really, really hot,” he agrees, huffing out a laugh and taking in her own disheveled appearance. He slowly steps back, rubbing her back while turning her body and tucking her into his chest. He places a sweet kiss on her forehead and slowly helps her get dressed before pulling his own pants back on. 

“So, about that ride,” he says, taking her hand. “Any objections to coming over to my place tonight instead of that ‘other location’?” She smiles shyly up at him from under her lashes, which is frankly sort of ridiculous given what they just did.

“Sure,” she nods. “Let me just text Diggle that we’re taking the night off.”

“Good,” he says, “cause I’m really not done with you yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think by leaving a comment. I'd love feedback since this is my first time. I have a Smoaking Billionaires piece in the works that I hope to start posting at the end of the week, but yeah, feedback would be super encouraging. Thanks for reading!


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